


Flowerfall

by Angelic_Ascent



Category: Tales of Zestiria
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Post-Canon, endgame spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-12
Updated: 2015-03-12
Packaged: 2018-03-17 12:25:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3529364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelic_Ascent/pseuds/Angelic_Ascent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This will take some time. Unfortunately, he has plenty of it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flowerfall

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [Flowerfall/花落花开](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7637470) by [sherryeris](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherryeris/pseuds/sherryeris)



By the end of the first year, the ground is starting to change to green.

Mikleo takes a moment to look over what he has been able to do in this time -- where there was once nothing but dirt and gravel, now there are signs of life. Many patches of the area are still barren, but it’s a start. Seeing what he’s accomplished so far is more than equal compensation for all those damn grass seeds he had to buy. Hopefully it will spread on its own from here on out.

For better or for worse, he can’t spend all his time here. In fact, he’s actually due to meet up with Lailah in two day’s time.

But surely one more night here couldn’t hurt.

He sits down with a short sigh and opens his book, before moving his eyes up to the pillar of light at the center of the chasm. 

“So,” he says, gaze returning to the book, “in a couple of days, I’m going to meet up with Lailah, and…”

* * *

By the end of five years, the immediate area is fully green. Thankfully, grass seems to spread quick enough on its own -- hopefully, in time, it should stretch to the horizon.

Mikleo sits with is legs dangling off the edge -- from here, he can see the entirety of the chasm, and the surrounding area for miles and miles. He takes it all in for the thousandth time, and then directs his attention back to the blank piece of paper on his lap.

The circle he draws to represent the hole is somewhat lopsided, but that’s fine. It’s just a rough idea of sorts, after all.

He draws a bigger circle around the chasm, scrawling the word _daisies_ in it. Outside that, another circle that says _calla lilies_ on the inside. He draws another bigger one around those, and divides that into sections labelled _chrysthanthemums, heathers,_ and _gladioluses._

He puts the paper down and opens the book next to him. Skipping to the various bookmarked pages and skimming over the text again, he sighs. Some of these needed shade, others needed near constant sunlight, some could only be planted during certain times of the year…

He picks up the paper again and starts plotting out smaller circles, where he’ll put trees. He recalls the trees near Izuchi, recalls laying under them with Sorey, those quiet days that seemed so far away. His pencil shakes a moment.

Then erases part of the daisy circle. Instead, he labels this small patch at the front of the chasm _stargazer --_

He quickly turns his pencil around and erases it, and redoes the daisy circle.

After a minute or so of looking at his sketch, he sighs again.

This will take some time. Unfortunately, he has plenty of it.

* * *

By the end of fifty years, Mikleo hasn’t gotten nearly as far as he thought he would.

For one, he can’t be here as much as he used to or would like. Everyone is working hard to improve the relations between human and tenzoku, and he had to do his part, too.

Secondly, trees take a long time to grow. Well, longer than he thought. The first set he planted had died after growing for about two years. Out of the second set, only half had lived, and now stood at about five feet in height. His third set, which he had planted only two years ago, was still growing and hopefully would stay alive.

Third, none of the flowers he had planted had taken off. Daises were supposedly the easiest of the bunch to grow, and yet he was having trouble. By now, he had memorized the optimum amount of water they were supposed to receive, and watering anything he planted was the easiest part of this. He made sure, of course, that he was planting them at the right time of year. Yet still they refused to grow past small sprouts.

He covers the last of this batch of daisy seeds with dirt, and with a short sigh stands up. Hopefully, this would be the last time he had to plant them. Planting as many as he wanted to was an arduous task -- it had taken about three days of doing pretty much nothing else -- and it would only get longer from here on out, but he was more optimistic, now.

Four days prior, he had asked Edna to use her magic to fertilize the land. It had taken him a month of mulling it over to actually do it. Because for one, this was _his_ project, this was what _Mikleo_ wanted to do _for Sorey._ If he was going to spend all those years asleep for everyone’s sake, for the sake of the world, this was just a fragment of that given back.

Another, he wasn’t sure it was worth the inevitable, satisfied smirk that would cross her face when he asked, and the teasing tone of her questions thereafter.

But of course it was worth it. After all, this was for Sorey, and it didn’t seem like he was getting anywhere trying to do this on his own.

When he asked her, he was surprised. For a moment, she stared at him, waiting to see if he would say more than “Edna, could you use your magic to fertilize the land around the chasm at Camlan?”

But he didn’t. And she had simply nodded once, slowly, and said, “Yes. Let’s go.”

He supposed he would have to wait for her teasing remarks.

They never came. The two of them arrived, and she had taken a long look at his largely unsuccessful work. And then, without a word, she gave one glance to the pillar of light, mumbled something, and started a spell.

It was over within a few minutes. Once she was done, she turned and gave him a small smile, said “Good luck,” and was on her way.

He hadn’t felt that happy in a while.

* * *

He had been right to feel optimistic, because fifty years after that, he feels like he’s finally getting somewhere.

He’s confident at this point that his trees would be safe. None had died since the last set he planted, and they continued to grow. Soon, they would be big enough to provide shade to the flowers that needed it, and then he would be able to plant those.

The daisies now almost formed a complete circle around the chasm. After Edna’s help, he was having much better luck -- of course, many of the initial ones still died, and had to be replanted, and some would wither here and there and need to be watered more -- however, for the most part, things were looking much better. Now, daisies that did die would be replaced by the seeds of the living ones without the need for him to plant any more.

Once the trees grew in a bit more, he would be ready to start with the calla lilies.

* * *

It takes another fifty years for him to be certain, _absolutely_ certain, that there’s enough shade to grow them, and to have enough time on his hands to plant them all. By now, all the humans that had been around for the journey so many years ago are long dead. It makes him all the more motivated to travel around and help to improve relations, and to help spread word of what happened all those years ago.

Asking Edna for help years prior made it easier to ask for Zaveid’s help. Like Edna, and again to Mikleo’s surprise, not once did Zaveid tease him. He had simply come, cast a spell to bless the area with mild winds so that the delicate sprouts would not be harmed, wished him luck, and left.

Now, he’s planted the last of the calla lilies. Since the circle was wider, it had taken him almost five days.

He walks back to the top of the cliff to look over his progress. The trees can still grow more, he’s pretty sure, but it should be enough so that the calla lilies get their shade. 

By now, it’s nigh impossible to see a place in his initial circle that isn’t covered in daisies. They form a white blanket around the chasm -- though there is one spot that’s untouched, still just grass, but that’s so there’s a path from here to there.

Hopefully, it would be smooth from here on out.

He sits down, legs hanging off the cliff. “So,” he starts, looking toward the pillar of light, “I met with the new Shepherd again last week, and…”

* * *

Ten winters later is colder than most. He worries that the sprouting chrysthanthemums, and possibly the other flowers, won’t survive. It had never once gotten cold enough to be considered in freezing temperatures in Camlan, but he can’t help but worry.

He had ended up asking Lailah to help keep the area warm, just for a couple nights. It was a lot easier to ask her than Edna or Zaveid. She agreed happily, and they had spent much time talking. Having company here for once was a nice change. And he thinks Sorey is probably happy to have someone else talking to him.

* * *

One hundred years later, and he’s looking over the area with a smile.

At this point, all of the flowers he wanted to put down have been planted. There are enough of each that even if some die, they are replaced on their own. He still comes to check on them, but not only is he even busier, it’s also not as needed. The rainfall is water enough and he no longer worries about them dying out without supervision.

The field is mostly white due to the abundance of daisies and calla lilies, though it is dappled with pink from the chrysthanthemums and gladioluses and touched with the purple of the heathers. It corresponds, mostly, with the sketch he had made long ago. The trees have grown to their fullest, and are now the homes to many birds, squirrels, and other small animals. He’s pretty sure he’s seen some rabbits pass through the area, too. It surprises him initially, a bit, that none of them are scared off by the constant pillar of light -- but once he thought about it, it made sense. They, too, must be able to feel the warmth, the gentleness, and the hope that comes from it.

* * *

Two hundred years after that, and the area looks less like his original idea -- mostly because the flowers have, of course, spread. Although it’s easy to tell where the original circles and groups were, now most of the flowers mingle among the other kinds, cascading into each other like waves of water. They’ve stretched out, now, gone far beyond where originally planted, so that then one stands up the top of the cliff, it’s hard to tell where the flowers end.

Even if it wasn’t his original intent, Mikleo likes it like this. He feels it looks better, and more than that, and it reminds him of him more: it feels more full of life, it feels as if the flowers themselves are full of hopes of seeing every corner of the world.

He wonders, perhaps, if Sorey’s dream was even able to touch these flowers. 

“Sorey,” he says, sitting down under a tree as he looks up at the pillar of light, “I hope you can see this soon.”

* * *

Two hundred years later, on a warm spring day, the morning is particularly quiet.

The animals that have come to call this area their home are sleeping. The light of dawn has just barely begun to truly rise over the horizon. It starts to cast a pink light over the field, and for the first time in centuries, it has no competition.

A couple of birds start to chirp as they wake with the dawn.

The only other sound is the rustling of the grass.

After considerable effort, he had finally been able to move one of his arms a bit. He feels as though he’s been laying here for ages -- but it didn’t surprise him. He usually felt like this after waking up from an accidental nap in the grassfields of Izuchi with Mikleo. He knows it’s Izuchi because it smells just like it.

To confirm himself, he reaches out his arm -- using all his strength, because it feels like it’s made out of lead -- and blindly feels around for Mikleo. His eyes feel much, much too heavy to open yet.

It’s when he realizes that Mikleo isn’t in arms reach of him that he remembers.

Suddenly, his body feels lighter. 

He had to get going.

He lifts his head up, forcing his eyes open.

Even just the morning light is overpowering at first. It’s bright, so bright, and everything is a blurry mess of colors. 

Eventually his vision starts to focus and shapes start to take definite form. Once that starts, he unsteadily pushes himself up onto his knees, and then stands.

The sight in front of him is so beautiful it’s all he can focus on -- he’s almost confused, because if he could think properly, he probably would think that he had woken up in an entirely different place. But he has no time for that -- he looks around quickly, his eyes moving from one thing to the next without pause, struggling to take it all in. 

Flowers, flowers, flowers, as far as he can see. Grass and trees and animals -- it’s so vastly different from the Camlan he had fallen asleep in, it feels like another world.

He looks down at his feet. Daisies surround him -- there are small patches of grass, just barely enough to call a path through all this, that he had woken up in, but the surrounding area is all daisies. 

Well, almost all daisies.

Here and there, right around where he had woken, there are -- lilies? He’s not sure. They’re shaped like lilies, but are spotted red. 

He smiles at them -- they’re very beautiful, and almost fragile looking, and in that way they remind him of Mikleo.

He goes to take off running, because he has to go, right now, but at that thought of Mikleo he realizes.

He remembers telling Mikleo that his favorite flower was daisies. And then it makes sense.

And that makes him start running faster than he thought possible.

**Author's Note:**

> i meant for this to be like.. a really short thing about mikleo planting some flowers around the chasm while sorey was asleep.. but :F
> 
> idk including the other tenzoku in on it they feel a little out of place but i thought they would want to help but it also clearly mikleos project obviously but.. idk.. yeah… idk this isn’t very exciting but it’s done sooo
> 
> i thought daisies might be sorey’s favorite flower. idk. i just think they suit him. daisies are typically symbols of purity and young love, too. calla lilies also symbolize purity but also faith and rebirth. chrysthanthemums symbolize loyalty and a long life. the heathers are for protection and the idea that wishes will come true. and the gladioluses mean faithfulness and remembrance. and the stargazer lily, the one with the red spots, signify missing someone. not depicted: mikleo reading a bunch of flower books to decide what to plant
> 
> anyway thank you so much for reading, and your kudos and comments lift my day!
> 
> edit: read the "continuation sequel" [here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7666318)!


End file.
